


Deep Breath

by Krank



Series: New Beginnings [1]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Emotional Abuse, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-29
Updated: 2013-10-29
Packaged: 2017-12-30 20:07:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1022855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Krank/pseuds/Krank
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Harry tries to get back on his feet after suffering at the hands of an emotionally abusive boyfriend.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Deep Breath

**Author's Note:**

> I had this idea ages ago back when I still listened to Ol’ Swifty. Based on the lyrics to ‘Begin Again’. I'm planning a sequel, which will go further in depth. Who knows when it will be complete, though.

Harry Styles stood in front of his bathroom mirror, looking at his reflection. He looked at his brown, curly hair that just didn’t seem to lay right. He looked himself in the eyes – a green, muddy color. Those eyes traveled to his full lips. They were too dark, too _pink_ for a boy. Harry then stepped back and looked at his clothes. He wore a plain white t-shirt, showing peeks of his tattoos, and tight, black skinny jeans.

_He didn’t like it when I wore tight jeans. Said my legs were too skinny. Said they made me look awkward. Said I was just showing off and attracting attention._

He took a deep breath and forced himself out to his front door where he pulled on some trainers and a light coat. It was only September, but there was a definite chill in the air.

Harry looked at himself one last time in the hallway mirror and shoved his ear buds in to his ears.

_He always hated the music I liked. Said it was just noise. Didn’t let me listen to it in the car. Didn’t let me play it in the apartment._

The walk to the café was short. Harry had chosen it because it was close. He didn’t have to travel too far from home.

He wasn’t sure what had made him agree to this date. Something in him was excited for it, but now that the day had arrived, his stomach was twisting in to knots. It was just a coffee. Just a friendly coffee with that guy from the movie theatre who liked to flirt shamelessly with him every time he went to get his mind off of things. Eventually the guy just straight up asked him out. Harry had accepted without hesitation. He had never been so bold.

Upon arriving at the small shop, he hesitated. He checked his watch: fifteen minutes early. Still enough time to turn right around and make a mad dash before his _date_ arrived. Harry shook his head, tugging at his hair. This was silly. This was all silly. He barely _knew_ this guy! Why had he been so careless? He wasn’t prepared – he wasn’t _ready-_

Harry’s phone started to ring. It was Louis.

“Hello?”

“ **Go in to the café, Styles.** ”

Harry spun around, looking for his friend amongst the crowd on the street.

“Lou, how did you-“

“ **Call it a best mate’s intuition. Now go get ‘em, tiger.** ” Louis hung up.

Harry took a deep breath.

The smell of coffee and pastries hit him like a wall. The atmosphere of the small place was warm and inviting, with cozy couches and chairs, along with more practical tables and booths. Harry glanced around briefly, wiping his sweaty palms on his trousers. They really were too tight. He looked ridiculous-

“Harry!”

Harry looked up at the sound of his name being called and spotted a mop of blond hair. He let out the breath he hadn’t known he was holding in.

Niall.

Niall was so many things wrapped in to one. He was light. Yeah, that was the best way to put it. He was happiness and comfort and relief all mixed together in one bottle-blond boy. And he was _such_ a boy, all baggy trousers and snapbacks and big, obnoxiously white trainers. He had braces – braces! – And a pair of impossibly blue eyes.

And apparently Niall had gotten there early and waited for him.

Harry walked over to where he was standing at the counter, chatting up a barista.

“Hi,” Niall greeted, flashing him a bright grin.

Harry smiled back. “Hi, yourself.”

Niall gave him a very obvious once-over, top to bottom. “You look… different.”

Harry’s heart fell. He _knew_ it.

“I’m sorry-“

“No!” Niall interrupted him. “No, what I meant to say was that you look different in a _good_ way. Like, a really good way. You look… real good.”

Harry felt his face go hot.

_He never complimented me much. Only when he wanted something. Used it to reel me in, fuel the fire just a little longer before he would thoroughly put it out._

“Let me buy you a coffee!” Niall’s voice pulled him from his thoughts. Harry looked up.

“Oh, no, that’s alright. I don’t need anything,”

“Nonsense! It’s on me. What’ll it be?”

 

They picked a booth right next to the window where the warm sunlight was streaming in. Harry thought it was rather criminal the way it seemed to light Niall up quite literally – he was practically glowing.

Harry sipped at his tea, which he had settled on after deciding that he was taking far too long deciding what to get. Niall had laughed and said it was cute. Then, he had ordered Harry a big donut with vanilla icing and sprinkles because _“you’ve never had one of these? You need to try it, it’s amazin’_.”

A comfortable silence settled between them. Niall was looking at Harry, observing him. Harry really wished he wouldn’t. His hair was a mess that day, and he had a small spot below his lip, and –

“So, why do you come around the movie theatre so much?”

It was true. Harry went to the movies. A lot. He went every Friday night, in fact, and also Tuesdays because that was cheap night. It was a routine he had fallen in to for the past eight months. Ever since… Well, he had needed something to occupy his time.

“I really like watching films,” Harry answered.

Niall laughed. “Well, I figured that. But why so often?”

Harry hesitated, stirring his spoon around in his mug. “It lets me escape life. For a few hours each week, I get to live through someone else, someone who struggles and triumphs, and ultimately lives happily ever after. Well, most of the time. ‘ _Les Mis’_ didn’t work out too well for everyone involved.”

Harry stared as Niall threw his head back and let out an obnoxious laugh. It was closer to a cackle, really. His cheeks turned a light pink and his nose did this adorable scrunchy thing.

_He never laughed at my jokes. He never thought I was funny._

“You alright?”

Harry looked up. “Why did you ask me out for coffee, Niall?”

Niall shrugged. “Well, I was going to take you to a movie, but I figured that might be a bit redundant.”

“No, for real, though.”

Niall frowned at him, and Harry decided he didn’t like that expression on his face. It stole a little bit of the light away.

“Because I like you.”

“You barely know me.”

“But I want to. I want to get to know you and find out dumb little things about you like your favorite song and how you like your eggs and if you like cats or dogs better.” Niall’s cheeks were turning pink again and Harry was certain he was falling in love with that color.

“I’m not a very interesting person, I’m afraid.”

Niall was quiet for a moment, staring at him intently. Harry felt himself shrivel up under that gaze. It was so imploring, so honest. Finally, Niall slid a pasty hand across the table and grasped Harry’s tightly. He felt a spark ignite inside of him, a spark he hadn’t felt in a long, long time.

“I think you’re really interesting.”

_He never cared about what I liked, never asked about my favorite things… He never –_

Harry gave his head a subtle shake. He cleared his throat. “Well, I like Mumford and Sons at the moment. I prefer my eggs scrambled and I had a cat named Dusty when I was a kid.”

Niall grinned, the metal in his mouth catching the sunlight. “Truly gripping stuff.”

Harry couldn’t hold back his snort. He dissolved in to laughter, leaning back on the vinyl cushion of the booth they were sharing. Harry laughed until he had tears in his eyes and he felt every last weight from the last eight months melting off of his shoulders.

_He made me feel like all love could ever be was broken. Like all love would eventually just burn up and end…_

But there, in that café on a Saturday afternoon, Harry watched it begin again. And this time, he had a feeling it was going to stick around.


End file.
